Something On The Mind
by Guldberg
Summary: He should have done something, anything. But he couldn't.


Something On The Mind

It was rare, nowadays. That he could just spend some time alone to be himself, by himself. There was always something he had to do. Do his homework, do the dishes, take care of his little brother. It was tiring. So he should be relieved, should be happy to get this chance for some peace and quiet. It wasn't like that. He was not relieved and he was most certainly not happy.

He could hear his father in the next room. Yelling, turning up the television and probably drinking himself half dead. He had been doing just that for a month now, never even considering going to work. A shame, really. His father was a fine man and he did his job well so two months ago he got promoted. He was shining brighter than the sun that summer day. His mom had been ecstatic. His little brother, Sasuke, hadn't understood but was happy nevertheless. It had been a great day.

He missed that. The thought of coming home and being welcomed back was such a trivial one back then. So was the thought of his little brother screaming and kicking him, running, because they had started a tickle fight, which wouldn't stop until he got him. Oh, god, he missed that.

Because they were gone now. Dead. Had kicked the bucket.

His mom had been picking up Sasuke from kindergarten. He had been with her because in the spur of the moment he had decided to go too. He had just had feeling that he should go with her and he now knew why.

But he couldn't do it. He couldn't protect them. And now they were gone. He had seen the blue car coming, knew that his mom had been paying attention to Sasuke instead of the road, but he couldn't say anything. His jaw was locked and his body paralyzed. He had blanked.

Next thing he knew was screams. Terrible, horrible screams.

"MOMMY!" Sasuke had been screaming, "MOMMY, WAKE UP!"

He still couldn't sleep without nightmares.

A giant piece of glass, glistening with red, right through his brother's stomach. It had probably hurt so much he didn't notice the pain. All there was, was that giant thing sticking out of him. And he probably couldn't handle that. His right arm had been bent the wrong way.

His mom had been hit in the head and had died instantly. Sasuke of course didn't know that and still kept yelling for her. Mom's legs had been crushed. And himself? He broke his arm and got an inch long cut on his face.

He should have saved them. He didn't know how, but he should have been able to say something, call for help. He didn't, he had been as paralyzed after as he was before the accident. He didn't calm his brother, he didn't scream, he didn't do anything. He should have, he somehow should have saved them.

It was all his fault.

His father thought so too, so it had to be true, right? He didn't visit him once at the hospital. Even when Sasuke officially died he found out through his assigned doctor. No flowers, no calls, nothing. Seeing his father as he was now, he assumed he had been drinking since the day he got the news. He was probably on drugs now too.  
After he came out of the hospital and had attended the funeral, there had been fists. Especially the right one, sometimes with a kick to the stomach. He had a sinking suspicion he was about to visit the hospital again soon.

He had to be the one at fault. His father, his kind, smart and loving father wouldn't hit him if it wasn't so. No one hit another without a reason. Right?

As he stared at his hands, his eyes wandered up his skinny arms. The wrists were filled with small, white lines. Scars. He thought it was the right solution. If no one wanted him there, he might as well die now and join his mom and little brother as well as later. He knew his body was covered with bruises and dents. He was thin and even if he wanted to eat he couldn't. There was absolutely nothing in the house but beer and smoke. Oh, yeah, and drugs.  
Across from him, on his mom's makeup table stood a mirror. It was completely surrounded by Winnie the Pooh stickers (courtesy of Sasuke) and happy family pictures. It was so surreal now.

He looked up and a pair of bloodshot eyes stared back. His cheeks were hollow, and honestly, he looked haunted. He tried a smile. It ended up as a grimace.

He heard rustling from the living room. Oh, dear god, no. Not again.

"Boy!" His father was calling him and he had to answer. It would only be worse if he let him wait.

"I'm coming." He answered.

He saw the fist come flying and did nothing to stop it.

* * *

This was originally an essay for my english class, where Sasuke was a little girl called Sarah instead. I think it turned out really well.

Tell me what you think?


End file.
